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It’s the Little Things

I’ve been on the road lately. Actually, the last few months have been a whirlwind of airports and planes and hotel rooms, and there just hasn’t been any time left over for this. Sorry about that. My apologies also to the people who have sent in Guest Posts – I will definitely put some of them up in the next few days.

In the meantime, here’s something for you to consider: When one travels as much as I have recently, one sometimes loses track of where one is. Airports all look the same and it just so happens that there are days when I myself don’t know which country I’m in any longer. As a result, I tend to look for small clues, unique to each country, that help me identify the place. For example, if you are looking idly at a girl and thinking “not bad tits” but you have the feeling that something isn’t quite right, and you then notice the five o’clock shadow on the lip and the mole with the long, luxuriant hairs growing out of it, and then you realise you’re actually looking at a collection of walking, inherited chromosomal disorders, and then you notice a wetness on your cheeks caused by your eyes bleeding because the smell is so intense that your sinuses have prolapsed, and that the appalling shrieks and jabberings around you are not, in fact, from the Baboon House at London Zoo, but are in fact being emitted by the general population around you, and then you notice that not all the wetness on your cheeks is blood, because your eyes are in fact also streaming with tears of self-pity, because your subconscious is a bit quicker on the uptake than you are…